


Potions Class Gone Wrong

by WeirdSuicidal19568



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All the fluffs, Bad Grammar On Harry's Part Is On Purpose, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, IT'S SO FLUFFY, M/M, teeny tiny angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdSuicidal19568/pseuds/WeirdSuicidal19568
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Potions. The subject can be very challenging and difficult. One little mistake can do a range or things, from make a flexibility potion into a gender changing potion, to make it into a bend-in-two potion. It can change it dramatically, or it can change it just slightly. </p><p>Well, Harry Potter was never the best at potions, was he? </p><p>While making a de-aging potion, meant to make the drinker go back by only a few years for a period of time, depending on the size of the frog liver and the color of squid blubber, there was a slight mishap. </p><p>What is a six year old Harry Potter in the care of a snake supposed to do? Cope without the memories that are slowly fading? Things are slowly falling downwards in a fast spiral.</p><p>Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, feels as though his life is slowly slipping, along with his mental stability. He wouldn't find Potter anything close to adorable otherwise, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Festina Tempus

    As the sixth year students hovered over their cauldrons, stirring, chopping, dicing and the like, the room soon became stuffy, almost sweltering hot. Many of the wool robes that were uniform were cast on the backs of chairs as the students stood.

 

     Ties, gold and green, were loosened from necks, shirts were un-tucked, sweat dripped from noses and sleeves were rolled up as the potions bubbled and hissed.

 

     Professor Slughorn, with a cooling charm previously put in place, observed the students, stopping by desks, making comments, giving tips, and walking away to look at another pairs cauldron.

 

     House unity being particularly popular this year, (there were many rumors going around about it being so Dumbledore could have a bigger army should Voldemort attack) the groups of two were in pairs, one from each house.

 

     The professor eagerly surveyed the work of his favorite student, Harry Potter, and his partner, Draco Malfoy, and was not disappointed.

 

     Draco was bent over the cutting board, and Harry was pouring over a book, making offhand comments every now and again about how Draco should cut, only for the blond to retort disdainfully.

 

     "Well done, my boys," Slughorn praised, beaming. At this stage and time, the potion should be the lightest shade of blue before white, which was a light periwinkle, and so far their potion had come to be the nearest colored shade.

 

     Poor Neville and Pansy's potion was a sickly green. Slughorn had tried his best to stay positive, as always, but found himself floundering, completely astonished as to how they had come across the color.

 

     Draco seemed to raise slightly at the praise, a smirk twitching his lips, while Harry shuffled his feet, gave a murmured "Thank you." and when back to the book.

 

     The time had been slowly ticking down, and soon only fifteen or so minutes were left til the bell. Slughorn was taking a last round, and frowned upon coming across his favorite pupil. The two seemed to be in a heated argument, which seemed to involve a lot of jerky arm movements.

 

    "Boys, behave yourselves," Slughorn scolded lightly, before grimacing slightly at their potion, which the boys did not take kindly to...Draco, at least. The potion had gone from the perfect (at the time) periwinkle to...a not so perfect shade.

 

     At this point, the finishing result, the potion should  be a soft turquoise, with a dense texture, almost chunky. Theirs had turned into a sharp, colorful bright green. The texture was close, though, if not a bit on the runny side. Slughorn gave them a comforting pat on the back, unaware he was making the Slytherin of the group fume, and shuffled away.

 

     Several minutes had passed since Slughorn departure, and Draco's glare on Harry had not dimmed. Harry shuffled awkwardly, keeping his head down.

 

     "You're fault, Potter," Draco murmured, absentmindedly stirring the potion. He winced at the too-runny texture.

 

     "How so?" Harry asked, an eyebrow quirked in question.

 

     "Obviously, you handed me too many of the crushed bat spleens! The book clearly said two, and you gave me who knows how many!"

 

     "Well, maybe you should have counted them yourself."

 

     "Please, Potter, don't make me laugh. When we partnered for the potion of forced will, we agreed that I would do the important part, and you'd hand me the correct amount of ingredients, since I thought that you could manage  _that_  without sodding it up. I was wrong, apparently."

 

     Harry huffed, frustration coloring his face red. He opened his mouth to retort, but then Slughorn started to speak. So, he closed his mouth, and with a final glare, focused most of his attention on their Professor.

 

     "As you are well aware, we have been making the Festina Tempus potion, which de-ages the drinker by about a year for an hour, but the effects can be modified in all ways, besides which direction you age. You may only age downward with this potion. Now, as you should be finished by now, please bottle a sample of your potions, but don't clean up your cauldrons just yet! And make sure to write your name and your partners name _neatly!_  My eyes aren't what they used to be! Send only one of you up to give me the potion!" Slughorn said, ending it his a hearty chuckle.

 

     The sound of clinking bottles and scratching quills filled the room, and Slughorn decided he should now announce why they shouldn't empty their cauldrons, because someone would do just that if he didn't give a reason.

 

     "Remember! Do not empty your cauldrons just yet! A few of the chosen people will be testing their potion!" A nervous aura filled the room, as the students stared at their cauldrons in anxiety. They hadn't been informed of this at the start of the double lesson. Nonetheless, they sat back down after turning in their work, eyes flickering nervously between professor and potion.

 

     "Would anyone like to volunteer before I pick you out by hand?" The professor said with a smile, which quickly turned into a frown as no hands were raised. But, that was til a single, dark hand was raised. "Ah, Mr. Zambini, please, come forward with another bottle of your potion." A second later, Blaise of the Slytherin house walked toward the front of the classroom, bottle in hand. "Now, class. Please remember the effects of this potion, not currently related to the modifications that can be made. This version, currently, should de-age Mr. Zambini by a year, and the effects will last for an hour. At least, if it was done correctly. Now, Mr. Zambini, whenever you're ready." Slughorn encouraged.

 

     Blaise uncorked the bottle, careful not to slosh the liquid, and brought it up to his lips. The turquoise liquid was quickly drained.

 

     A look that Blaise would be embarrassed to know looked like compensation passed over his face, followed by a grimace and a violent shudder. A huff of air left his nose, almost like the wind was knocked out of him, and he shrunk an inch, his face became slightly rounder, and his arms and legs shrunk a bit, losing muscle.

 

     "Well done Mr. Zambini!" The professor praised, and a smug little smile fluttered across the now fifteen year old boy's face, before he nodded, and returned to his shared table, sitting next to his partner Hermione silently. "Would anyone else like to go, before I start picking people?" Slughorn asked the class. When no one raised a hand, he sighed. "Well then, let's see...Ah, Mr. Potter! Why don't you come up?"

 

     Harry's eyes resembled a doe's as they flashed in fear.

 


	2. Old, Old Habits

     Harry looked over at Draco in a last moment of panic, only to find the boy already filling a bottle with the runny, green liquid almost happily.  _Wanker_ , Harry thought spitefully, as he watch Draco carefully cork it. He then shoved it at Harry, who was forced to take hold of it, or have it crash on the floor. Who knew what would happen if it hit the stone floor.  _Who knows what will happen once I have to drink this stuff._..Harry hung his head in defeat, and shuffled over to his beaming professor.   
  
     "There we go, m'boy! Go ahead, take a drink," Slughorn encouraged. Harry looked at the bottle in his hand, silently prayed to Merlin that his heart wouldn't blow up in a fantastic firework show, uncorked the bottle, tipped his head back, and brought it to his lips, eyes closed tightly.   
  
      Harry shuddered violently as soon as he drained the bottle, coughing raggedly before he gasped in pain, clutching his throat. Slughorn lost his smile, his eyes widened, full of concern as the students watched on, some with amusement, some with worry, all sure they were about to witness the Boy-Who-Lived's untimely demise.   
  
     With a  _poof!_ a cloud of green smoke surrounded Harry. When the cloud dispersed, the class gasped in shock in perfect synchronization.  
  
     A boy, seeming to be about four years in age stood where the sixteen year old previously stood. It was still Harry, obviously. His clothes pooled around him. Since they had been slightly baggie when teenage Harry had been wearing them, they now barely fit on his small body. His shirt hung past his knees, one shoulder dipping completely to his elbow, revealing bony, pale skin, and the other was still about halfway down his shoulder. His pants and robes were no longer able to fit around his waste and shoulders, and so pooled around him. His glasses were too big for his face, and slipped down, before a small hand pushed them back up, a huff escaping. His hair was longer, curling around his neck and ears. It was much messier and curlier than before, which many didn't think possible. His eyes were big, doe-like, and were a shocking, attention demanding emerald green.   
  
     He tried to extract one leg from the mess of jeans and black wool, but he stumbled, and was forced to catch himself on the rim of Slughorns desk. The class cooed, and Harry's face flamed from a mixture of humiliation and frustration. He hoped to god no one noticed his underwear wasn't with his pants and robes. All his were dirty, so he hadn't worn any today. But, he thanked Merlin, his shirt covered him, as it almost reached the floor.   
  
     "He's so adorable! So tiny!" Lavender Brown squealed, which caused Harry's face to flame. He tried to tilt it downward so his red face wouldn't be visible, but his hair flopped into his face, at the same time his glasses slipped down, so his hair poked him in the face. He rushed to grab his glasses before they fell to the ground, and ended up fumbling with them as he tried to smush them back onto his face quickly.   
  
    "Mr...Mr. Potter?" Slughorn asked slowly, tentatively. The transformed boy looked up at him, and Slughorn almost melted. Harry was an adorable child. Those eyes had so much potential if they had stayed that way! He could have gotten whatever he wanted. "Are you quite all right? Do you remember everything? Do you have an idea of your age? Three, maybe four years?" Slughorn tried to suggest helpfully.   
  
     "Of course I remember!" Harry huffed in a high pitched voice filled with anger. "And I'm six, thank you very much!" Harry glared childishly, but the effect was ruined by his floppy hair, too big clothes, glasses, and his doe-like eyes.   
  
     "Six?" Slughorn asked in alarm. "My my child, were you underfed? Either way, Malfoy, you're his partner for this lesson! Take him to the hospital wing!" Those who had noticed Harry stiffen thought nothing of it, figuring it was because he had to be taken to the hospital wing by Malfoy. That was hardly the reason, though. If anyone had been paying close enough attention, maybe they would've noticed the almost faded bruises dotting Harry's arms, but no one seemed to be.   
  
     No one but a certain bushy haired Gryffindor. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the spots as Harry tried to cover them up without anyone noticing. His eyes shot to Hermione, and widened in alarm, before he quickly pulled his shirt up.   
  
     Malfoy blinked, sighed as though he had the worst life in the world, and walked forward. "Let's hurry, Potter. I will not be late for my next lesson. Grab your pants and shoes, I'm not carrying them." Malfoy ordered, his voice oddly low and soft.   
  
     Harry huffed, once again, and bent to pick up the baggie garment and his shoes. In the process his glasses almost fell off, and his shirt slipped over once more, to reveal the light purple and brown marks, but eventually he was standing and trodding along after the blond. Some would argue he was stomping.   
  
     The two walked in uncomfortable silence, Harry struggling with his luggage and Malfoy studiously not-looking. Harry was glad classes were still in session. He would hate for everyone to see his six-year-old self, barefoot, stumbling along after Malfoy with only an over sized shirt on.   
  
     Finally, Malfoy seemed to snap. He huffed, stopped abruptly, turned around, and swooped Harry's clothes away from him, holding them with his nose in the air as he walked. Harry blinked at him rapidly, confusion shining in his eyes.   
  
     "What did you do that for?" Harry broke the silence, eyeing Malfoy suspiciously, his high pitched voice ringing off the walls and making himself flinch slightly at the sound.   
  
"Honestly," Malfoy murmured. "you look like a new borne baby dear, stumbling around with those eyes of yours. I bet you stole them from a doe. Was your mother a doe? She must have been a doe animgous." Malfoy huffed, seeming to be talking to himself.   
  
     Malfoy himself did not go unaffected by the potion, even if he hadn't been the one to drink it. He must have been inhaling to many fumes, to think  _Potter_  of all people was  cute. Child or not. Potter was  _not_  cute. (Cough cough, not-cute.)

  
     "You...doe..." Harry sighed. "Thank you." He said instead, quietly. He kept his head down, and didn't see the glace Malfoy threw him over his shoulder.   
  
     "You're welcome." They walked in silence once more, before Malfoy looked back around again. "Do try and keep your head up. Bending it like that for long periods of time lead to neck and spinal injuries later on in adult life." Malfoy said suddenly. Harry looked up, startled. He pushed his glasses back up his nose absentmindedly, pushing his hair out of the way as he went.   
  
     "M'sorry," Harry murmured, and Malfoy's walking stuttered for a moment at the words. "I guess the potions making me act like I had done when I was six...my body seems to have changed back to that..." Harry shuddered at the thought. He really didn't want to go back to that age. That age had been horrible. The Dursleys had deemed him tall enough to work the stove, and so he had started to cook food, but of course he kept messing up. He knew he had a burn on his thigh from the fire poker, he could feel it. He also had a lot more bruises than usual. If he was correct in his guess that his body would form the bruises and injuries as he went along in growing up, then he was going to have a Hell of a time covering everything up.   
  
     "Oh, please do not tell me you wailed half the day and night," Malfoy groaned, bringing Harry out of his musings.   
  
     "No, nothin' like tha..." Harry trailed off.   
  
     "What were you like, then?" Malfoy asked. He didn't get an answer.   
  
     When they finally reached the doors to the hospital wing, Harry rushed forward, knowing the bell would ring any moment. He got ready to push the doors open, as they took a bit of force, but ended up stumbling as they opened easily. He looked up to see Malfoy holding the door open for him, patented Malfoy smirk plastered on his features.   
  
     Harry glared for a moment, before he faltered, and lowered his head out of old, old habits that had been long-since buried. Malfoy frowned, and followed Harry into the Hospital wing.   
  
    "Madam Pomfrey?"

 


	3. The Headmasters Office

     Draco did not linger. He left soon after Harry was place on a hospital bed. He didn't look back as he went out the doors, and so didn't see Harry's slightly disappointed gaze on his back as he did so. If he had, the look in the big doe eyes would have made him falter in his fast movements.   
  
     He was out the doors and walking quickly to his next class in moments. He soon arrived to Transfiguration, and sighed as he watched the Gryffindors around the room, pretending not to hear all the whispers concerning the Mini-Potter.   
  
     Meanwhile, Harry was sulking in his hospital bed, a pout on his face.   
  
     When dinner rolled around, he was thoroughly annoyed. His classes had been buzzing, his fellow Slytherins not speaking but seeming to silently communicate. He was surprised he wasn't hearing whispers all over the school. He had no doubt the Slytherins hadn't said anything, but he would have expected the Gryffindors to be shouting it for the whole school to hear.   
  
     He searched the Gryffindor table absentmindedly. He was only slightly surprised to find that Potter was missing. He rolled his eyes as Pansy simpered next to him and silently ate his dinner.   
  
     He didn't expect his head of house to walk up to him.  
  
     Nor did he expect to be told the Headmaster had summoned him.  
  
     He gracefully moved away from his table, briefly mourning the loss of his meal, before walking stiffly to the Headmasters office, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Professor Snape had told him the password lowly when he was informed of his summons, and so when he came upon the stone gargoyle he shouted out the password, ("Lemon Cake!") feeling stupid.   
  
     He climbed the rotating steps quickly, his knocking clipped. A soft "Come in." came moments later, and he opened the door, unexpectedly facing a chair next to another, occupied one.   
  


     Occupied by Potter, that is. The small boy glanced up at him, eyes cast downward, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of his now properly fitting clothes. He pulled at them, a small frown on his face as though he couldn't understand why they weren't over sized, before his hands stilled, his posture fixing itself in a way no six year old should know, his face carefully blank and Draco had to wonder if that was a skill Potter learned in his years before Hogwarts, as he had never seen the boy in such a state.   
  
     "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat. Lemon Drop?" Dumbledore offered, holding out a small bowl full of the hard yellow candies as Draco stiffly took a seat next to Potter, the latter still staring at Dumbledore with a blank, hard, expressionless mask.  
  
     "I'm sure you're both well aware that this must not be a public event. Mr. Potter is in enough danger as it is at the moment, and having unwanted attention cast onto the matter would not be good. Mr. Potter, please excuse me for saying so, but you are not in your most powerful state at the moment," Dumbledore said gently, only to receive a blank stare and blink in returned. He forged on, however.   
  
     "Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure you understand the seriousness of the matter at hand as well." Waiting for some sort on acknowledgement, he continued. "Now, boys, you understand that we need to take precaution. Which is why I'm sure you understand why Mr. Potter here cannot be seen by anyone." He said, voice grave.   
  
     Draco raised an eyebrow in response, but a small voice broke in before he could.   
  
     "What about all the others, in class? The Gryffindors and Sly-Slythi-Slytherins," Harry said, voice as emotionless as his face, albeit high, bouncing off the walls ever-so-slightly. His face morphed into a small scowl for a fraction of a second as he struggled to pronounced the word, before returning to a mask, while Draco's lips turned up slightly in a smirk.  
  
     "Not to worry. I have taken the proper precautions, and no one will say a word about this incident." Dumbledore said reassuringly. Harry blinked at him. Draco frowned, as well. Maybe Dumbledore had done it while he was in that class with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.   
  
     "If I'm gonna be stuck in a room, then what about school?" Harry inquired.  
  
     "Well, I hardly believe you're in a condition to do class work, Mr. Potter. Please do not take offense," Dumbledore said, smiling warmly. Harry just huffed, before he cast his eyes downward, face still cold as stone.   
  
     "Sir, I fail to see why I am here," Draco broke in after a moment. Dumbledore smiled at him, and Harry's eyes snapped to him for a brief moment through his fringe before his eyes fell away, seemingly coming to a stop on Fawkes perch.   
  
     "Mr. Malfoy, forgive me. I believe, with you being near Mr. Potter in the early stages of his transformation, that you may have created a bond of sorts. Thus, I have decided that the best option would be to place Mr. Potter in your care,"   
  
     Dumbledore hardly finished his sentence by the time Draco was out of his seat.   
  
     "Excuse me? Headmaster, you can't possibly believe that! He hates me, I hate him! What's all this rubbish about a bond? I took him to the Hospital Wing! He's the Chosen One, and I'm the son of a Death Eater! You must'int think that this is the correct solution to this? What about my school work?" He objected furiously.   
  
     Dumbledore watched him carefully as he said all this, eyes twinkling. Draco felt his eyelid twitch.   
  
     "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do believe that. You have no reason to worry about school work, as I shall have it delivered to yours and Mr. Potters private quarters. Speaking of which, you shall be taken to, now, by my a House-Elf. Dinky!" Dumbledore called with a snap of his fingers, and Draco could only fume as a small House-Elf quickly lead them away. The were on the sixth floor when Draco remembered Harry.  
  
     He looked behind him, to see Harry looking up at him, face confused. "What?" He snapped, getting annoyed at that look. Potter was not adorable.  
  
     "What are...what are Death...Death Eaters?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any body else reminded the the seven dwarfs from Snow White when coming up with names for House-Elves? No? Just me? Okay.


	4. Sir Murcy

     Draco's steps stuttered, his steely grey eyes widening and his form freezing. Under his stunned gaze, Harry shifted, uncomfortable, playing with the end of his sleeve.  
  
  
     "Potter..." Draco breathed, before shaking his head. "I'll deal with this later," He murmured to himself, before grabbing Harry's shoulder and quickly catching up to the House-Elf. Harry remained silent, until they came upon a portrait of an older man with black hair, pale skin, hard eyes and a strong posture, his clothes obviously from several centuries back. He had fangs, as well. That didn't fail to escape their notice.   
  
  
     "Sir Murcy, how nice to see you again." Harry said suddenly, stepping forward and giving an almost toothy smile to the vampire, startling them both.   
  
  
     "Dear Hadrian, my boy?" Sir Murcy said in sudden recognition. "What ever happened to you?" He asked, tone startled.   
  
  
     "Accident in Potions class Sir." Harry said politely, and Draco just flickered his eyes back and fourth between the two. Was it possible Potter had met the painting on one of his infamous midnight strolls? Draco was still curious as to how the boy managed that, but it was moot point at the moment.   
  
  
     "Indeed. What are you doing around here, Dear Hadrian?" He asked, his eyes flickering to Draco. They narrowed at the hand Draco had on his shoulder, and Draco quickly removed it. It may be a painting but if he was to be their guard Draco had no wish to get on his bad side. His eyes seemed to soften, as though he approved and his attention flickered back to Harry.  
  
  
     "These are to be our new quarters, Sir Murcy. Though, I seem to have forgotten the password to enter our abode. Would you mind terribly telling us?" Harry asked, his tone, words and voice terribly polite and old for his age. Draco wondered if this was how Harry usually talked to the portrait. It seemed likely, as he was an older fellow. Possibly by a thousand years or so. In Draco's head.  
  
  
     "Wonderful, Dear Hadrian. You do not remember from your last visit, just a few months ago? Very well. It was a Muggle phrase you picked out. You told me it had a meaning in your life, though you never bothered to explain it. The password is Murphy's Law." Sir Murcy spoke clearly, and Harry nodded, a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he thanked the vampire and entered their new housing quarters.   
  
  
     It was a big room, painted in soft whites, browns, blues and greens, rather tastefully. Draco wasted no time in grabbing Harry's shoulder and steering him to the dark blue couch. They were soon sat, and Draco was startled when a tea set suddenly popped into existence on the table, while Harry didn't even blink.   
  
  
     Draco shook his head, mentally preparing himself for the conversation about to happen.   
  
  
     "First of all, your full name, please." Draco said, his voice straining the last word. Harry frowned at his pained expression. Draco hadn't signed up for this. He didn't want to do this. But he had to do this. So he could report it to Dumbledore. Maybe if enough things were wrong he'd take Potter off his hands and ship him off to an adult or Mungo's.  
  
  
     "Well, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley, the Sorting Hat and my bank account at Gringotts gave me different names. Which would you like?" Harry inquired, looking up innocently at the blond.   
  
  
     "The bank account. And what your Muggle family calls you," Draco almost snapped, but refrained, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was probably some stupid nickname, like how his parents called him Dragon when alone. Perfect blackmail material. They probably called him Raven or something along the lines. _Raven isn't that bad, actually. Rather cute...maybe I'll start calling him Raven...No! Bad Draco!_ Draco scolded himself silently, his face giving away nothing.   
  
  
      Harry quickly gave his answer, sensing the blond wanted this over with quickly. He seemed to be losing his temper, and Harry knew the wrath of that to be quite painful, and was perfectly fine with skittering out of the blonds way as soon as he could. Hence; keep his answers to the point and quick.  
  
  
     "My relatives call me Freak, though that's not really a name, I suppose," Harry mused, before snapping back into action. "but the file at Gringotts stated that my name was Hadrian Evans James Potter." He quickly stated.   
  
  
     Draco sat quietly on the couch for several minutes, the first sentences to leave Harry's mouth not at all expected. He had expected a cute, embarrassing name, but this...Draco's mind quickly relayed the events of everything that had happened since Harry was changed back. His mindset seemed to be slowly morphing to that of his old self. He no longer walked with his head held high, nor had the Gryffindor confidence. He was quiet, almost shy and afraid of what would happen if he even made himself noticed. Hadn't he flinched at some tones Draco had used? He couldn't remember. Didn't he act surprised at the clothes? That they actually seemed to fit?  
  
  
      All the factors pointed to it. It was almost painfully obvious.   
  
  
     Was Harry Potter, or apparently Hadrian Potter abused?  
  
  
     Draco shook off the disturbing thought, making his mind focus on the current situation.  
  
  
     "Well, Hadrian. I'm going to say this gently, as you seem to be in a rather fragile state at the moment," Draco said carefully watched the younger while he said this. No spark. No Gryffindor flare. It wasn't there anymore. What had changed so drastically to make Potter go from this to what he was yesterday?  
  
  
      Potter just nodded mutely.   
  
  
     "You seem to be losing the memories of your sixteen year old self. Now, listen carefully and answer the best you can, okay?" A mute nod. 

 

     "How old were you when you got your Hogwarts letter?"  
  
  
     "Eleven."  
  
  
     "Good. What house did you get placed into?" Draco asked, almost wanting to skip the question, figuring it would be as pointless as the last. He had to cover his bases, however, and it seemed useful, as Harry adopted a confused expression and spoke slowly, as though he had to dredge through his memories slightly.   
  
  
    "The Hat...it wanted me in Slytherin...but I convinced it to put me in the next best house, because I new I could work better inside the House Of Lions," He said slowly, before shaking his head, pain overtaking his face for a moment.   
  
  
     Draco, meanwhile, was crowing. Harry Potter, a Slytherin? And talking the Sorting Hat out of placing him in his proper house at age eleven? How bloody devious of Potter! He loved it! He could certainly get to know this Potter. He would nurture it even, teach him how to embrace it and take full control over it, even though he seemed to have a somewhat good control over it already. However, he still blurted things out without thinking, and that was very unwise in a house of snakes.  
  
  
     "Okay, Harry." Draco almost flinched when he used the name. That was weird. Maybe he should stick to Hadrain..."What do you know of Voldemort?"


	5. Nightmares

Draco's eyes winded in pure panic as Harry doubled over in pain, a choked scream leaving pale lips as his hands flew up to clutch his head.   
  
  
     "Potter? Potter!" Draco yelped, hands fluttering about the boys body, not knowing what to do. Harry let out a gurgled noise before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped into Draco's unprepared arms. He quickly adjusted Harry so he was laying on the couch, something which was far too easy considering the boy was six in age. His mind flickered back to the suggestion of abuse, but he decided that this was far more important at the moment.  
  
  
     He quickly assessed the boys head, which seemed to be the main problem, pushing back the fringe and taking off the glasses. He frowned worriedly at seeing an angry, bleeding scar. He summoned a rag from somewhere he didn't care to think about, wetting it with a quick Aguamenti. He dabbed the dampened cloth at Harry's forehead, cleaning up the blood that had run down his temple and cheek.   
  
  
     When he realized what he was doing he almost smacked himself for the stupid mothering traits Narcissa seemed to have passed on, before pushing it aside and focusing on Harry.   
  
  
     He sighed in relief when he cleaned up all the blood, and picked up the unconscious Harry worriedly. He carried him gently to the rooms, and dropped him off in what he assumed was Harry's room, as it sure as Hell wasn't his. He didn't have plushies.   
  
  


     He set Harry down gently, and Harry latched onto the werewolf and grim plushie before Draco could do anything. He curled into a little ball and burrowed underneath the blankets Draco placed over him. Draco let a delicate smile cross his face, before he roughly shook his head _. Bad Draco!_ He scolded. He was not supposed to find the enemy cute, adorable and he was not supposed to worry over him!   
  
  
 _But he's so tiny and un-Potter like,_  a nagging voice in Draco's head murmured.   
  
  
 _Enemy!_ Another reminded sharply.   
  
  
 _The poor kids been abused! Lay the bloody Hell off!_  The first one argued. When Draco realized what was going on in his own head he decided he was indeed going completely batty. Maybe the potion fumes affected him more than he first thought. He slipped into the shower, deducing it would be a while before Harry woke up.   
  
  
     It was indeed a while before Harry awoke. Draco had been in the 'living room' as he had deduced it, doing his homework which had been delivered by a House-Elf and contemplating things about the room he really should ask, when he heard the scream that almost caused him to spear his eyeball with a quill.   
  
  
     He dropped the suddenly dangerous item and raced to Harry's room, where the terrified scream was coming from. He was by Harry's bed in a moment, slightly stunned and scared to see the boy thrashing wildly in the bed, the plushies circling him in mid air like an angry stuffed cyclone.   
  
  
      Draco gathered his small amount of courage and grabbed Harry softly by the head, one arm pinning his torso still. His thumb stroked Harry's cheek as he softly encouraged the boy to wake up.  
  
  
     There were tears in Harry's eyes when the emerald orbs fluttered open, and Draco completely forgot who he was, who this six year old was and where he was. He leaned down to pull the smaller form into his own, the small arms clinging to him. Draco carefully wrapped his arms around the little boys form, holding him close to Draco's body as he softly rocked them and murmured reassurances into the smaller boys ears. Harry clung to him, seeking out the unfamiliar comfort.   
  
  
     Harry seemed to fall asleep as the minutes ticked by, but Draco was unaware of the constantly changing time as his worry overtook him. Even though the boy was asleep, Draco wrapped himself around the smaller form and laid down. Harry cuddled into his side and Draco gripped him tightly, absentmindedly playing with a stag plushie as his mind slowly calmed down, along with his racing heart.   
  
  
     There were four plushie, Draco noted after a moment. They had dropped to the bed when Harry had woken up, and lay somewhat haphazardly around the dark green sheets. One was a stag, the others a werewolf, grim and dragon. Rather odd and random set to have, but he supposed Harry liked them. Who was he to judge? He could have a raccoon and a raven and Draco would still not even ask.   
  
  
     He eventually fell into a peaceful sleep, Harry's quickly steadying breathing calming him efficiently.   
  
  
     When Draco next awoke, something was thrashing against his side. Draco shot into awareness, and quickly attempted to calm to frightened boy. Little whimpers escaped Harry's mouth as he experienced his nightmare, and Draco felt helpless.  
  
  
     He shook Harry gently, and the boy almost screamed when his eyes snapped open to see Draco less than a foot away. Draco shushed the other boy and pointlessly smoothed out Harry's hair. It was to calm the boy, after all.  
  
  
     Draco seemed to have forgotten who Harry was, though Harry still had memories of the blond, some vivid and others vague. This didn't match up at all to everything he knew about the Pureblood.  
  
  
     "What was the nightmare about, Harry?" Just like that, Harry was snapped back out of his musings and transported to the real world. A whimper escaped his lips and he snuggled into Draco almost desperately.  
  
  
     "Harry, c'mon Raven, talk to me," Draco whispered, rocking the two of them. Harry's head snapped up in poorly concealed shock.   
  
  
     "What did you call me?" He whispered, his voice hoarse and harsh from the screaming and crying. Draco absentmindedly wiped away the tear tracks Harry hadn't even been aware of.   
  
  
     "Raven. I'm sorry. I'll stop. But talk to me, Harry." Draco said, almost pleading.  
  
  
     Harry shook his head rapidly. "I don't mind," He said quietly, against his gut telling him this man was not to be trusted. He wasn't really sure why it was saying that anyways. "there....there was a man with a scary face...and a woman with red hair...and a lot of green light...he killed her Draco." Harry whispered, clutching a suddenly still Draco's shirt. "He killed her and I don't know how I know." He continued, voice trembling.   
  
  
     Just like that, Harry was gathered in his arms tightly once more, and soon he was soundly asleep. Draco however, was a bit more restless. It seemed Harry remembered that night, if he had to guess. He knew the boy was most likely plagued with nightmares, with how much the dark circles under his eyes stood out, but if those nightmares continued to haunt him Draco wasn't sure his mother-henning would ever stop.   
  
  
     He held Harry tightly and fell asleep, this time neither of them woke up until the clock was ticking close to eleven A.M.


	6. Severus Snape

     Draco awoke slowly, blinking rapidly and stretching languidly on the comfy bed. He couldn't move his left arm, however, and frowned, looking down at it. His eyes widened upon seeing a sleepy mini-Potter laying on it, before his memories caught up to him, making him wince, and unconsciously tuck the smaller form into his frame.   
  
     He softly petted the boys long silky locks, his fingers becoming tangled in the thick mass frequently. He frowned. He'd need to teach the boy about combing his hair more often. He searched the small face, finding it more peaceful and at ease than he had ever seen it before. Upon seeing a bruise on Harry's face, bright purple and vaguely in the shape of a large hand print, concern washed over him rapidly.   
  
     Harry slowly woke up, reluctant to leave the soft heaven of clouds, and a loving feeling of being petted. Even as his life seemed to be slowly fading from his memories, he couldn't remember ever being doted on, and he wanted to bask in the feeling while he could.   
  
     Though, with reluctance he opened his eyes, thinking the doting was his imagination, but it turned out to be as real as his plushies, he found upon opening them and blinking up at the bright form which he was cuddled into.  
  
     He felt his face flush and finding himself cuddled into Draco Malfoy, but found himself relaxing as the petting continued. "It's okay, Harry," Draco said softly, and Harry looked up from his embarrassed gaze.   
  
     "Where's Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked in a moment of confusion. His mind didn't seem to understand that Draco meant Hogwarts, and Hogwarts meant no Petunia. Draco frowned.   
  
     "I don't know. You're with me, at Hogwarts. Raven, do you know why you have such a large bruise on your face?" Draco asked quietly, refusing to stop petting the boy. It seemed to be calming him significantly and he was doing what he could to make sure Harry remained such a way.   
  
     "Uncle Vernon hurt me for messing up suppa," He mumbled, eyes dropping at the ministrations on his head. Draco's head stuttered, before he picked back up. He said nothing, confusing Harry for a moment before he slipped back into the land of sleep, his body at ease and his mind telling him he didn't need to worry about his Aunt and Uncle.   
  
     Draco's head was a whirlwind of thought. He was positive now that Harry was an abused child, and he was fearing that Harry's body would go through whatever injuries he received at what age. He just hoped Harry didn't feel any pain from it. He sighed, and snuggled the now sleeping form into his side. He needed to owl his Godfather.  
  
     It ended up being several hours later before he had a chance to pen a note. Harry slept for another few hours, and after that they had breakfast. He sent Harry off to the shower and then sat down, quickly writing out a brief note that got to the point, just as the Potions Master would want it.  
  
 _Severus,_  
  
     Harry is losing his memories and it is becoming evident that as he reverts back to his younger self, his instincts are coming through. I believed he was abused as a child, as bruises are appearing from nowhere on his body, along with several other signs. Please visit when you can, to see for yourself the damage, and so I may inquire about the potion to bring Potter back to his true self.  
  
     Dragon.   
  
     He whistled shrilly, and his darkly colored eagle swooped into the room gracefully.   
  
     "To Severus," Draco said softly, tying the letter to the creatures leg. It gave a light shriek before departing out of the window it had arrived in. It was only several minutes later that Harry came in, his hair a fluffy mess and his clothes clinging to his still wet body. Draco frowned. The boy really was too scrawny for his own good.   
  
     "Come here, Harry. Sev should be coming soon and we have to do something with your hair to make you presentable," Draco sniffed, quickly gathering a comb and waiting for Harry to reluctantly join him on the couch.  
  
     "Sev?"  
  
     "Severus Snape, our potions teacher." Draco said absentmindedly.   
  
     "Oh."   
  
     Draco worked diligently, but his efforts turned out to be almost fruitless. When he deemed it to be in the best condition it could be in, he sighed, and sat back to wait for the potions master. Harry got up, going to inspect his hair and Draco watched with amusement as he turned his head side to side.  
  
     He them summoned Harry and some bruise paste over to himself, gently applying the substance. "Does it hurt?" He asked curtly.  
  
     "No."  
  
     "Good. This is a paste that will heal it. It should be gone in an hour or so."   
  
     "Okay."  
  
     Short answers were not something Draco thought was normal for someone of Harry's age, but decided to keep that to himself and gently apply the substance to the bright purple bruise covering the majority of Harry's right side.   
  
     It was a half hour later that there was a curt knock on the door, causing both of the room occupants to jump, before Draco quickly opened it. The potions master walked in, robes billowing behind him. His eyes trained on Harry, or more specifically the bruise on his face. It was now turning a yellow color.   
  
     Draco quickly explained the paste, and Severus nodding, before stepping before Harry. "What do you remember of me, child?" He asked, hardly remembering to soften his tone. Harry still flinched slightly, causing Severus' eyes to narrow mutely.  
  
     "Your...your Severus Snape...you helped me protect myself against that snake man..." Harry mumbled, thinking hard. Draco raised an eyebrow in question, and Severus narrowed his eyes in challenge at the blond, before his attention snapped back to Harry. "Your a snake as well....but not a mean snake...." He muttered, eyes mere slits as he thought hard. "And you teach a subject kinda like some things in my Science class, but harder." He said, nodding and looking up to see if he got that right.   
  
     Severus nodded curtly, and Harry smiled slightly, before his eyes went back to the floor.   
  
     "Good. What do you remember of Hogwarts?"  
  
     "It's a magic school...but Aunt Petunia says magic isn't real. Uncle Vernon hurts me when I do things like magic." Severus' blinked. The only hint of his mask slipping at the mention of abuse because of accidental magic all magical kids were prone to at one age or another.   
  
     "Alright. Your full name." He said lowly, and Harry's eyes flickered to Draco in question, causing Severus' eyebrows to rise.   
  
     "The Gringotts one, Harry." Draco said quickly, and Harry nodded before turning back to him, and Severus' eyebrows twitched back into place.  
  
     "Hadrian Evens James Potter Sir." He said quickly and clearly. Severus nodded slowly.   
  
     "Thank you, Hadrian. Would you mind letting me and Mr. Malfoy talk for a moment alone?"  
  
     "You mean Draco? Okay, Sir." Harry said quietly, before darting off into his room. This man didn't scare him like his Uncle and Aunt, but he didn't have good experience with adults and it was a relief to be in the safety of...whatever this place was.   
  
     It was a huge room in his eyes. There was a green and blue bed with plushies that tempted Harry. Surely this wasn't his room? But he had woken up in it...Draco's room, Harry decided after a moment. He most likely had a space in the kitchen or under the stairs. That's what he was used to, after all.   
  
     Though, the plushies were too tempting to not play with, and Harry walked over to them in almost a trance, picking up the grim with shaky hands. Why did this seem so familiar?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a filler than anything. Soz.


	7. Catching Wind

     Draco and Severus watched Harry mutely walk out of the room, a look of wonder flashing across his face before he disappeared into the room. Draco turned again to face his Godfather, his features almost grim and his face expectant, eyebrow raised.   
  
     Severus' face was equally grim, a hand coming up to rub his chin.   
  
     "This is worrying." He said a moment later, breaking the silence efficiently.   
  
     "Indeed. Sev, what could be causing the memory loss?"   
  
     "I assume the potion had more side effects than we first thought. The bruises, you said, appear randomly and from seemingly nowhere?"  
  
     "Yes. I woke up and he had that one on his face. He was sleeping. He couldn't have hurt himself." Draco said, worrying his bottom lip.   
  
     Severus nodded slowly, expression intense. "His memory seems to be fading quickly. It shouldn't be more than a week before all he knows is his time here." He murmured.   
  
     "A week?" Draco asked, voice strangled. "Sev, he can't forget everything! The potion wont be ready for another month, I assume." Draco waiting for his Godfather to nod before continuing. "What if he doesn't regain his memories when he is changed back? He'll be a six year old that behaves like a twenty year old, talks like an eight year old in a sixteen year old body!" Draco said lowly, voice tinged with frustration and a hint of desperation.   
  
     His Godfather raised an eyebrow. "You sound as though you care for Potter. It has been hardly a day. Surely your opinion doesn't change that quickly, Dragon?"   
  
     Draco blinked, and straightened, expression that of defeat. "Severus, he's a little kid who's been abused. I'm not heartless." He said, shaking his head. Severus frowned at the topic change.   
  
     "The abuse is worrying. It would make it harder to earn trust, especially that of adults. He seemed frightened of me." Severus murmured, searching his memory to the depths, and coming up with little. "My memory is little but I can see signs of this abuse in my experience with him during classes and other times." He said slowly, shame creeping into his frame.   
  
     What if the abuse had continued as the boy grew older and went to Hogwarts? He was always deathly pale, abnormally small, flinched easily and was very loyal to those he trusted, worryingly so. Always to tentative around adults. Being abused as a child as well, Severus could easily sympathized. It hadn't ended until his father Tobias had died when he was nineteen, only years after he had forced his only son to take the Dark Mark.   
  
     What if the abuse continued in such a similar path as his own? Getting worse and worse over the years, to the point of being on the brink of death more often than naught. He remembered walking in on Potter discussing whether he could stay at Hogwarts for the duration of the summer, and had assumed that Potter just wanted to use magic and have a great big castle all to himself, but now he realized that it was more likely than naught that Potter had merely wanted to escape his family, if they could be called that.   
  
     "I need to take my departure. I need to add somethings to the cauldron shortly. If all goes to plan it found be prepared in three and a half weeks. Watch him, Draco." Severus warned, waiting for Draco to nod before he walked out, robs flapping behind him. Draco sighed, shaking his head. He slowly walked to the room Harry had entered, opening the door equally as slowly. He smiled upon seeing Harry asleep in the bed, cuddling one of the plushies.   
  
     He sneezed in his sleep, waking himself up for a moment, eyes fluttering, before falling back to sleep once more, sniffling. Draco frowned, putting a hand on Harry's forehead.   
  
     Harry didn't stir, and Draco was worried to find that he was burning up. Draco straightened, fixing the pillows around Harry and wrapping him up snugly in a blanket.   
  
     He left the room quietly, going to his own rooms which he had yet to see. The bed was made up of dark wood, grey sheets and dark green blankets. He snorted, and instead sat at the stationary, penning a letter to Pomfrey asking for a few Pepper Up potions.   
  
     Minutes later his owl was flying and he was snuggled into his own bed.  
  
     When he woke up it was too the sound of a tapping sound. He opened his eyes blearily, blinking rapidly at the annoyed bird, a small parcel tied to his feet.  
  
     Soon Draco was walking out of his room with a Pepper Up potion in hand. He was in the doorway when a loud clang was heard, and Draco changed his course abruptly, going to the kitchens instead of Harry's room, his original destination.  
  
     He had hardly looked at the scene before he had scooped up a started Harry in his arms and had placed him on the counter. It appeared Harry had tried to make breakfast himself, but he couldn't even manage to get the pan on the stove, which was now on the floor.   
  
     "Harry, why are you awake? You should still be resting. You aren't nearly well enough to be cooking." Draco fretted, absentmindedly putting the pan on the stove as he checked a startled Harry for injuries.   
  
     "I thought you left me," Harry murmured, sniffing, and Draco's nose twitched in mind disgust as Harry wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. "So I tried ta make breakfast," He said shrugging, sniffing.   
  
     Draco sighed, brushing Harry's fringe away to feel his forehead, noting the fever seemed to have risen.   
  
     "Raven, you're sick. I didn't leave. I just slept in my own rooms. I'm not going to leave you. Now let's get you back to bed. You're going to rest, I'll have the House-Elves bring something." Draco said, leaving no room for argument as a stunned but happy Harry allowed himself to be picked up and carried to his rooms.   
  
     "Drink." Draco ordered, pushing a bottle into Harry's hands as he worked on fluffing the pillows. Harry's nose scrunched at the smell, and his whole face sneered at the taste, but he didn't complain as he downed it, filling Draco with an odd mixture of relief and worry.   
  
     An hour later Harry had eaten all that he could before he had fallen asleep again. Draco sighed, noted he was feeling rather down himself and took another of the five Pomfrey had sent. He didn't want to be sick, after all. Settling himself down to start his homework, he set about the boring task. Harry seemed to just have a minor cold. Nothing to worry about.   
  
     Meanwhile, the Potions Master paced in his private chambers, steps agitated. The Dark Lord had summoned him sometime in the night, forcing him to put a stasis charm on the potion while in a important part of the potion.   
  
     The Dark Lord had gotten wind. He knew something had happened to Potter. He didn't know what had happened, however. It was only a matter of time before he found out, and Severus knew it.   
  
     Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His life was very complicated at times, boarding on pointless back and forth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUNDUNDUNNNNNNNNNNNNNN


	8. Hot Chocolate

     Draco groaned in frustration, dropping his head into his hands, shoulders slumping. The House-Elves had brought him his homework sometime during breakfast, and Draco had been procrastinating doing it all day, telling himself it could wait in favor of something else.  
  


     It was now minutes from midnight. Draco had started after he had put Harry to bed, at nine. He decided he was getting better at this stuff. He'd been doing it for a week now. He had Harry had a steady routine. It helped Harry didn't remember him.  
  
     Harry had almost completed closed in on himself. He was a shell of what Draco knew and had grown with. Harry was quiet, smart, watched his steps, and was every bit the Slytherin Draco knew he was meant to be.   
  
     Draco slumped on the couch. He had finally finished, completing a Charms essay, a questionnaire for Defense Against the Dark Arts, writing a practical essay for Arithmancy, and doing some reading for History Of Magic. Fun day.  
  
     He got up and almost stumbled over to his room, leaving the homework on the table. The House-Elves would collect it at some point and take it to the proper professors. He put his night clothes on and did  _not_  flop onto his bed, snuggling under the sheets as sleep quickly wrapped him in a blanket or warmth. Nope _. Potter is so lucky he excused for homework,_  was Draco's last thought before he was drifting.  
  
~~~  
  
     Harry sat up quickly, face red and drenched in sweat. He breathed heavily, bordering on hyperventilating. He shook his head roughly to dispel the nightmares. Blinding green light and shouts clouded his vision, his ears. He had to get away. He was suffocating.   
  
     He moved off the bed as quickly as possible, tripping and hitting the floor with a thud as the sheets tangled around his legs. He gave a frightened and painful shout as his nose slammed on the carpeted floor. The sheets felt like snakes, wrapping around his legs, trying to pull him back into the dark abyss.   
  
     He gasped and clawed at the floor til he was against the wall, the sheets lying limply on the floor. Under the illusion they were still trying to reach him, that they were slowly making their way across the floor in effort to strangle and suffocate him, Harry got up, stumbling out of the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him, letting out a half sob of relief as pain overtook his system.   
  
     He lifted a hand to his nose as he left liquid slowly drip down. He could see in the dim light a red substance on his fingers. His nose was bleeding.   
  
     He turned to go to the bathroom, and let out a strangled scream of fright as Draco stood in front of him. In the dim light his features were shadowed, the light bouncing off his white blond hair.   
  
     "Raven?" Draco whispered, concern clouding his voice and a sob of fright escaped Harry before he was launching himself at the older boy, who stumbled and wrapped his arms around Harry's torso tightly on instinct.   
  
     Harry reveled in the comforting warmth that Draco offered, burying himself inside the pajamas.   
  
     "Harry, Harry look at me," Draco ordered gently, and Harry pulled back reluctantly, eyes blurry without his glasses and from his tears. He saw Draco's fuzzy features pull down with concern. "Your bleeding," He murmured, picking Harry up and carrying him to Draco's bathroom. He set Harry on the toilet and damped a washcloth, gently rubbing away the smeared blood.  
  
     "M'sorry, Dray," Harry whispered, voice scratchy and guilt-ridden as he pointed to a big red patch on Draco's shoulder. He ignored the stinging in his nose, lowering his head and tensing, expecting a hit against his slowly building and improving better judgement.   
  
     "Don't worry about it." Draco waved off, tilting Harry's head upwards to check for more blood. "Why are you bleeding, Harry?" He asked softly, cupping the small face in his hands.   
  
     "I had a nightmare. Fell off my bed. The sheets tryna' get me, Dray," Harry murmured, face flushing.   
  
     "Hey, it's okay, Harry. Are you ready to go back to bed now?" He asked, thumb gently moving back and forth against Harry's soft cheek. Harry shook his head violently, shaking of Draco's hands in the process.  
  
     "No! I don't want to go back! It scares me, Dray!" Harry whispered, eyes so panicked it made Draco's heart clench further than before.  
  
     "Hey, hey, it's okay Harry," Draco soothed. "I'm not going to make you go back there, alright?" Harry nodded shakily, and Harry gave him a small smile. "Let's both change into clean clothes, and get some hot chocolate, okay?" Draco asked, and Harry smiled a wobbly little smile.   
  
     "What's that?" Harry asked, eyes suddenly confused, and Draco felt anger flare in him once again.  
  
     Struggling to control his reasonable rage (or maybe not  _too_  reasonable), he put on a smile and ruffled Harry's hair, throwing the dirty wash cloth in the sink.  
  
     "You'll see." He whispered, winking, and Harry giggled.   
  
     Draco ventured to go get Harry's clothes per request, and while Harry changed he summoned a House-Elf. By the time both were changed, snuggled into Draco's bed and sipping hot chocolate, with marsh mellows and whipped cream, both were quite relaxed and content.  
  
     Harry had been amazed by the chocolate-y  concoction, and drank it quickly, despite Draco's warnings that it was hot. Harry burned his tongue slightly, to Draco's amusement.   
  
     It was four in the morning when both set down their mugs, and Draco frowned as Harry started to get off the bed.  
  
     "Where do you think you're going?" Draco asked, almost accusingly. Harry blinked at him.   
  
     "I thought..." He trailed off, eyes lighting slowly with small hope.  
  
     "What, you think I'm just going to let you sleep on the couch? No, come mere," Draco said, and Harry gave a brilliant smile before practically jumping on Draco and snuggling up under the blankets and next to the blond easily, burying his face in the Slytherin's chest, while Draco himself settled one arm around Harry's waist, the other hand stuffed loosely in Harry's black tresses, brushing through them in a soothing manner.   
  
     Harry reveled in the attention, and with a soppy little smile on his face he fell asleep, Draco following soon after, musing the thought of this becoming a regular thing.  
  
     He decided he wouldn't mind as he drifted off into the land of dreams. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chases fluff bunny*


	9. Gone

     Harry awoke slowly, stretching languidly, relishing in the warmth and comfort that surrounded him like a warm blanket. Plus the warm blanket above him. And there seemed to be a body, as well, giving off heat. That was nice.  
  
     Harry snuggled himself in further to the motionless form next to him, his head getting wedged between neck and shoulder and arms wrapping around the others torso.   
  
     Sleepily, Harry matched his breathing pace to the one that belong to the body next to him, a small smile on his face as he felt an elegant hand run through his hair softly. Harry was soon lulled deeply back into the warm embrace of Morpheus.   
  
     Draco let a serene smile adorn his face for a few blissful moments, before reality sunk in, a frown now marring his features. He could feel a...feeling, an emotion, rapidly growing and pulsing inside him, and he was almost repulsed by the  _pureness_  of it.   
  
     It was with a sigh he accepted that this wouldn't last forever. The potion would be made, eventually, and then...Harry would be gone.   
  
     But Draco desperately wished that wouldn't happen. He found himself enjoying cuddling much more than he ever thought he would. He didn't even mind the hair trying to make him sneeze!  
  
     Draco ran his hand lightly up Harry's clothed back. He briefly wondered how purely intimate this action would be if Harry wasn't six at the moment.   
  
     He supposed Harry wasn't really. He still had some memories of his past years, but they seemed to be rapidly fading into nothing.   
  
     Draco froze as Harry winced in his sleep suddenly. His hand paused, and he carefully lifted Harry's shirt to see the spot his hand had been. He frowned. There didn't seem to be a mark.  
  
     Then, right before his eyes, he saw it. It started as a little misshapen dot, before it bloomed rapidly across Harry's back in a deep purple bruise, roughly in the shape of a big hand print.   
  
     Draco gently lowered the shirt and closed his eyes in rage. It simmered at the surface, and the only think keeping him and his magic from lashing out seemed to be Harry's steady breathing and constant movements to get impossibly close to the blond, to comfort.   
  
     Draco's grip tightened around the black haired boy, stuffing his own face into the unruly curls, only to pull back a moment later and sneeze. Harry giggled, and Draco almost sighed in disappointment. He wouldn't be getting any more cuddles. For many hours, at least. (Noooooo Draco me and the fangirls will snuggle with youuuuuu)  
  


~~~  
  
     "Oi, Harry, c'mere for a second!" Draco called, smiling as the sound of little footsteps quickly made their way over to him.  
  
     "Yes, Dray?"  
  
     "I got something for you in the mail. Still know what Quiddich is?" Draco asked with a smile, and Harry's little squishy face scrunched up in confusion.   
  
     "No, Dray." He said, quietly, lowering his head in shame.  
  
     "Well, I'll just have to re-teach you. You can learn from the best this time," Draco said haughtily, making Harry giggle before he handed Harry a thin package about Harry's small size, if not a bit taller.   
  
     "Really?" Harry asked in awe, and Draco nodded with a smile. Harry teared into the package, and a frowned adorned Draco's face now that Harry couldn't see it. _Poor kid didn't even get presents...though I suppose it shouldn't surprise me.._.Draco quickly put his smile back on as Harry stared at the polished wood handle in confusion.   
  
     "It's practice broom. One of the ones that can fly. Of course, you can't go very high, which is horribly boring but fair enough." Draco said with a smile, and Harry started jumping up and down in excitement.   
  
     "I wanna fly I wanna fly I wanna fly!"   
  
     Draco laughed, taking the broom fully out of its casing and showing Harry the proper way to hold it and mount it. Harry watched attentively, and when it was his turn he copied Draco to almost a hair as he mounted the broom.   
  
     Before Draco could show him how to fly, Harry kicked off and he was five feet off the ground quickly. Draco quirked a smile, even as his heart started to beat nervously. _His body seems to remember, at least_ , he mused.   
  
     "I wanna go higher!" Harry complained, even as a brilliant smile rested on his face.   
  
     "It can't go any higher, Harr-"  
  
     "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Harry shouted, a joyous laugh escaping his lips as he zoomed across the room at a speed faster than the broom was supposed to go, now three feet higher than the set height.  
  
     Draco's heart thumped nervously in his chest as he watched with avid eyes. He carefully watched for any sigh of panic or loss of control, but Harry seem perfectly fine, in his element, even.   
  
     Draco sat on the couch, still tense as he waiting for any sign of something going wrong. It wasn't until ten minutes later that he relaxed, somewhat. _Even if it does give me a near panic attack every time he does a mini dive or loop, he seems to be enjoying himself greatly._  
  
     Time for dinner came, and Harry again surprised him by not complaining when Draco told him it was time to put the toy away. Again, Draco felt small rage boil. Harry was way too well behaved, even given the fact he was sixteen at one point.   
  
 _That seemed like so long ago,_ Draco thought as he sat on the couch and picked up a book. He withheld his surprise when Harry came up to him a moment later, snuggling next to him as he played with a plushie.   
  
     Draco smiled tenderly, before opening his book. It was an hour later that both boys had fallen asleep.  
  
~~~  
  
     It was a scream that awoke Draco.   
  
     Draco flailed as he fell gracelessly off the couch, blinking rapidly and struggling to take in the scene before him.   
  
     The fireplace was alive and blistering hot with harmless green flames. The table that rested in the space between the couch and said fireplace was knocked over, one of its legs broken.   
  
     Three cloaked figures stood in his line of vision, one of them holding a screaming and flailing Harry.   
  
 _Death Eaters._ The thought raced through Draco and stabbed him in the heart with a spike of pure panic.  
  
     "LET ME GO! LET ME GO! DRACO! HELP ME!" Harry screamed, and Draco was on his feet, wand arm raising, before blinding pain entered his system.   
  
     He watched with watery eyes as one of the three left through the fireplace, then went the one holding a struggling Harry was gone, and then the spell was lifted, and shortly thereafter the room was empty for all but him.   
  
     Draco struggled to his feet, the affects of the Cruicatus Cruse making him wince with every movement as a dull ache enveloped his body, but it was nothing to the shear panic that gripped his heart and mind.   
  
 _He's gone. He's Gone. Gonegonegonegone. HE CAN'T BE GONE!_


	10. Prey Vs. Predator

     Harry screamed and kicked to his best abilities, trying desperately to be released from the hold of the one holding him.   
  
     He sobbed and cried helplessly, tears streaming down his face in fear as he kicked in a futile attempt to escape.   
  
     "Please, pleaseplease, let me go, please," He sobbed, his body deflating as the arms tightened around him, his energy and hope drained.   
  
     "Why do I have to restrain the brat?" A deep voice sounded from above Harry; from the person holding him. He seemed to be speaking to the one on their left. Harry glanced over, and almost screamed. She had taken down her hood, revealing her face.  
  
     Her hair was a frizzy mess, her face deathly pale and skin stretched thinly over her features, which were sharp. The eyes scared him the most, however; they were crazed. Utterly crazed. Harry sobbed again, hopelessness washing through him like a tidal wave.  
  
     "Because I was busy cruicio'ing your son." She said, her sticky sweet voice coming with a smile to match. Harry's posture slumped more even though his mind raced with panic. The man holding him sniffed, and Harry watched the wooden walls pass dully, wondering what horrible fate he was being lead to.  
 _  
Did that mean the mean man was Draco's daddy? But, aren't daddies supposed to be nice? Draco's nice...He'd make a good daddy...I wonder what my daddy was like...Draco could be my daddy..._ Harry mused in despair and confusion. It didn't make sense to his almost completely six year old mind.  
  
     They house they were in was old, Harry was sure. The walls were made of wood which was cracked and had wholes, rusty nails sticking out at odd angles. The floor creaked as they walked and the staircases they took trembled under the weight. Harry felt like they might give out under their weight, and they'd fall and maybe the guy holding him would let him go and he could make his escape, but nothing other than dust came off the wooden steps, and Harry felt his hope sinking to new lows.  
  
 _It looks like a shack,_  Harry mused inanely.  
  
     It was minutes later they came to a three way turn. One hallway leading to left, one to the right, and a door directly in front of them. To Harry's reluctance, they doors opened and they entered the room. 

  
     Harry was put down, well, dropped, really, on the ground and Harry yelped at the sudden change. He rushed to pick himself up again, scuttling away from the large group, baking up against a wall, splinters going into his hands and causing Harry to wince.   
  
     His eyes flickered around rapidly, searching for exits like he had been practically trained to in his early years. There was a window, but it was high. There was a table next to it, which helped, but they were across the room. They had to be at least on the second floor, if not third. If he'd even survive the fall, he'd need a distraction to get to the window and away. There was the door which they had come through, but it was blocked by the crazy woman and the one that had held Harry.  
  
     Harry let his eyes watch the occupants of the room. His eyes froze on a man with snake-like features and blood red irises. It caused a shock to his system, but it was horribly out of his memory, like an inch he couldn't reach and it annoyed and intimidated him. His body obviously recognized this man as a threat, though for all things made by Merlin he couldn't remember why.  
  
     His breath shallow'ed, becoming unstable and choppy, not that it wasn't before hand. He scratched at the wall with short, stubby fingernails and came back with empty hands, albeit full of splinters.  
  
     The man, previously perched on a throne which looked horribly out of place, was now walking slowly towards him, reminding Harry violently of a time when he saw something like this on the telly at home.   
  
     Prey vs. predator.   
  
     "Harry Potter." He spoke, voice low and hissing. "Finally. You are defenseless; weak; at my mercy. I could do so many things to you. And we will get around to all of them. But for now, your job is to give us information." Voldemort said, and Harry wondered how he knew the blokes name.   
  
     "I-I-I don't know nothin'!" Harry cried out, panic causing his voice to come to almost a shriek. This guy was bad. He wasn't nice. Harry wasn't sure how he knew this, but he knew it like he knew that Draco would save him.   
  
     A cruel smile came to Voldemort's thin lips. "Don't play coy, Potter. We can do this all night and I assure you the longer you hold out, the worse the punishment will be. If you tell us what we want with ease, I'll grant you a quick death." He said with a shallow laugh.   
  
     Harry's breathe came in short, rapid spurts. His heart was racing a mile a minute as he backed himself as close to the wall as he could manage.   
  
     "I don't know anything!" He shouted. Voldemort lost his smile.  
  
     "Where is the Order Of The Phoenix?" He hissed, getting out of his throne and prowling around Harry.   
  
     "I don't know what that is," Harry whispered. He folded in on himself, tucking his head into his knees. He shook violently as he sobbed into his knees. He didn't know anything, he didn't know what was going to happen to him and he just wanted to get away from this man. He wanted Draco! Draco would save him!  
  
     But Harry had to be strong. Strong for Draco.   
  
     Harry lifted his head.  
  
     "Potter, this really would be easier if you cooperated." Voldemort said, voice set in a growl.  
  
     Harry glared at Voldemort, standing abruptly and launching himself at the man. Harry kicked him as hard as he could in the groin and hit him as hard as he could, little fists flying in rapid succession. Voldemort shrieked.  
  
     "Crucio!" He shouted, and Harry screamed, collapsing on the floor as pain enveloped his body. "Nagini!" He shouted next, but Harry could hardly hear it over the sound of his screams.  
  
     The spell was lifted, and Harry trembled and sobbed as tears streamed down his face. His head lolled to the side and he saw through blurry vision, a form which was low to the ground, and bright green, coming closer and closer to him.  
  
     Then it was right next to him, and Harry stared, helpless as the snake reared up. Harry let out  choked scream as razor sharp and poison-tipped fangs closed down on his arm.   
  
~~~  
  
     Draco wasn't sure how long he stared at the fireplace for. He was motionless, shock running through his system. Harry was gone.  _They just walked in and took him. How did they even get in?_

     Draco trembled as his body collapsed on the floor. Sobs he refused to let out shook his body violently.   
  
     When had the boy become so important to him?  
  
     Draco would get him back. He had to. If he didn't....who knew what they were doing to him, at this very moment? Voldemort was a cruel bastard.   
  
     Where were they? How for the love of Salazar was he going to find him?  
  


      But...that didn't matter. He  _would_  find Harry. He  _would_  save him. And he would be alive, and not a hair on his head had been touched. And if so much as a hair on his head didn't meet those requirements, there would be hell to pay.  
  
 _I'm going to save you Harry....I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, I added an innuendo, in a place I really shouldn't have and wouldn't be taken at all in a dirty way if you all had clean minds. But alas, none of us do. Ah well. Likey? How the feels?


	11. Pacing Causes Dents

     Draco tugged at his hair roughly, pacing the room in sharp lines, making harsh imprints in the soft carpet.  
  
     His eyes were oddly red, and suspiciously puffy. Harry had been taken mere hours ago; who knew what they had done to him in just this short time.  
  


     Draco closed his eyes in despair and tugged the white locks, making his eyes prickle from the pain.  _Where'd they take him, where'd they take him...where would even take him?_  A choked noise left his throat, and his frame fell on the couch.   
  
     His head was lowered into his hands and his fingers rubbed at his eyes furiously, turning them a deeper red than before.  
  
     Defeat flowed through his frame. He knew not where they would take him.   
  
     Draco wasn't completely sure how long he sat, his mind furiously going over all the locations he could think of, but if he had to guess he'd say around ten minutes, before he shot up, almost knocking over several items.   
  
 _The Professors!_  He had to tell them at once! Maybe they cold do an advanced locator spell than the ones third years were taught to help them keep track of their things, since Accio was more advanced for their age.  
  
     He shot out the door, caring not for his wrinkled clothes, askew hair, and red eyes. It was past curfew, anyway. No one would be out.  
  
     He made it to the headmasters office in record time, coming up short at the gargoyle. Didn't Dumbledore have a habit of using candy as the password?  
  
     Without hesitation, uncaring about what a scene he was obviously making, though no one was around to witness it, he started shouting out candy names, finally settling on Blood Pops.  
  


     The revolving stairs seemed to move too slow. Draco bounced on his heels at the top as they climbed higher and higher, marveling at the size of the tower the Headmaster lived in.  
  
     He knocked furiously on the door when the stairs ( _"finally."_  Draco murmured.) made it to the top, hardly hearing the tired "Come in." over the sound.   
  


     He rushed in, and didn't even stop to great the wizened old man before he started his rapid, panicked rant. When he finished, he panted heavily, falling into a chair.  
  
      "Headmaster, can't you cast a locating charm and find him? I don't know how they got in but they took him and I couldn't do anything. Please Headmaster." Draco whispered, staring at his socked feet, shame filling his frame. It was his fault Harry had been taken.  
  
     "Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said lightly. "do not blame yourself. As you yourself said we are unaware of how they manged to get in. We need to take care of that so that no more harm comes to the students, first and foremost." He finished, and Draco glared hotly at the man. Harry was possibly  _dead_  by now! How long had Harry been gone now? Half an hour? More?   
  


     Draco watched, almost detached, as Dumbledore sent out multiple Patronesses, each going out the door, to where Draco assumed the head of houses were.  
  
     He waited silently.   
  
     Mcgonagall was the first to arrive, followed by Flitwick, then Snape, and finally Sprout. Draco made no comments and ignored the looks shot at him repeatedly. Dumbledore explain gently, quietly. When his explanation was through, the teachers dispersed, some to block the fire places, others to seal the entrances, and some to overall check the wards and check for dark magic.  
  
     When Dumbledore and Draco were once again alone, the old man stood, his wand pointed to the sky, lips moving rapidly, a complicated string of latin leaving too quietly for Draco to hear.  
  
     A blue light left the wand, and Draco watched with quiet fascination as to went through the ceiling. When Albus sat down once again, Draco looked to the man for an explanation.   
  
     "That was a locating charm. It should find Mr. Potter, but as we are unaware of whatever wards may be put up, it may only come up with a general area, which admittedly is better than nothing," He said, a sigh in his words. Draco nodded.  
  
      Minutes passed. Draco almost fell out of his chair when a beam of bright blue flew into the room from the ceiling very suddenly.   
  
     Dumbledore looked upon the results eagerly, eyes scanning the magic, flowing lines in a way Draco couldn't decipher.   
  


    He wasn't sure he wan't to know why a frown suddenly adorned the Headmasters face.   
  
    Nonetheless. "Professor?"  
  
     The man looked to Draco only briefly, expression a strange mixture of grim, confusion and a small, small twinkle of hope. Draco was actually glad to see the twinkle for once.   
  
     "I have found traces of my own magical signature, as well as other, darker ones. The spell couldn't find an exact location, but since it was familiar with my own magic is seems we got a smaller area in which to look than we could have hoped for. Harry seems to be somewhere near Hogwarts, but not in the forest. More near Hogsmead. I'm afraid I can't help you any further, Mr. Malfoy. I will send out those that I can when I am amble." He said, and with furry and a new hope Draco nodded stiffly, before getting up and walking out of the room, robes billowing about him in such a way to make Snape proud.  
  
     Draco stalked back off to his own rooms, his mind a whirlwind. Upon reaching his destination, he continued to pace furiously, ignoring the voice that sounded like his mother, murmuring about how pacing caused dents in carpets. He ended up making several dents in the carpet, true to his nagging voice in his head, or maybe that was his mother, and fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, stress weighing down on him.   
  
    He woke around none, and rolled over with a frown. Why wasn't Harry's small body warming his, like usual? Draco cracked an eye open, only to see himself in his pajamas, but the strange thing was that he had socks on. He never wore socks to bed.   
  
     When Draco realized, he groaned and fell back against the fluffy pillows. He wiped the eye-boggies away, clearing his vision as he looked around the room, which seemed depressingly quiet with only the sounds of Draco's breathing and rustling to fill it.   
  
     He tossed and turned, despair washing over him. He closed his eyes with a sigh. What would Harry do? The proper Harry, who was his age?  
 _  
How did the blasted boy always find me? And lead that group around too, for that matter?_ Draco wondered idly, before he shot up in his bed. Didn't Harry a map? Draco scrambled away, into Harry's bedroom which hadn't even been opened in several days, at the least; he hadn't been keeping track.  
  
     He rummaged in the small trunk Harry had at the foot of his bed, wondering if this counted as violating. Probably. But Draco had bigger things to worry about than that.  
  
     Draco gave a cry of triumph as he came across the aged parchment. He recognized from seeing it in Harry's hands several times over the years. Little Harry had also told him about it, though Draco had been giving him half a mind at the time, having been doing his homework when Harry brought it up.  
  
     "What did he say, what did he say you had to do to make it work?" He murmured furiously to himself, wracking his brain. Harry had been there for, what, fifteen hours or so? Draco needed to get him out.   
  
     "It started with an 'I solemnly swear'....swear swear swear....than...no, that I am....oh what was the last part?" Draco whispered furiously.   
  
     "The Weasel Twins gave it to him, didn't they? Well..what were they?" He murmured, staring down at the old parchment.   
  
     He tapped if absentmindedly with his wand. "I solemnly swear I am..." He trailed off, staring at it...what were the Weasel Twins? What did they always do? What would they do? Weasel Twins, Draco snorted, almost fondly, staring at the parchment. "Up to no good, was what you wer- Bollocks!" Draco swore, staring in fascination as the parchment immediately filled itself with lines and dots and feet prints, labels and names. He smiled victoriously and almost jumped.  
  
     He scanned the paper furiously, eyes scanning over it's many layers and lines. It amazed him. He looked to the edge of the map, where it went only a little further than the Whomping Willow. He followed the little circle from the tree curiously, ending in a series of lines labeled as the Shrieking Shack.  
  
     Draco almost passed over it, before he saw a small name which made his heart pound furiously, before nearly stopping and pounding again.  
  
 _Harry Potter._  
  
    His eyes flickered to a form, which moved but didn't cause footsteps, but rather a bendy line, circling the small form back and forth.  
  
 _Nagini._


	12. The Shrieking Shack

     Draco's heart pounded in his chest and his stomach seemed to be lodged in his throat. Did he stop running? No. He didn't dare. Did he pay any mind to wandering students or professors, who seemed to find him completely insane as he had hardly gotten dressed? No.  
  
     He had to get to Harry. He'd been alone, or hurt or injured for what, sixteen or so hours now? Draco had to get him back. He considered getting the professors for a second. No, there were lessons going on. All the ones he was familiar with or were the most useful were occupied.  
  
     He ran through the castle, breathing heavily and chest heaving. Not many lingered when he managed to get to the grounds, understandably, with lessons. But even if there were many students and teachers around it watch, he knew it wouldn't matter to him. Harry mattered.   
  
     When he reached the Whomping Willow he came up short. It's branches were still, leaves rustling in the slight wind. How did he get past it?  
  
     He impatiently circled the tree, looking for the entrance or a way to make it... _not_  whomp him.  
  


     He was considering kicking the damn tree on his fourth go around. He couldn't get  very good look, since stepping closer meant the tree would move, and if the tree moved he was near enough that the tree considered him a threat, or something along the lines.  
  
 _Is that why you move and hit people so much?_ Draco mused.  _Because you're protecting something? The entrance?_  
  
     The tree, unsurprisingly (or maybe surprisingly. It was a magical tree, after all.) gave no response, and Draco huffed.   
  
    On his sixth go, he was on the verge of tugging his hair out. His eyes narrowed at the tree, and he stopped short at what appeared to be a hole.   
  
     Draco risked a step closer. The tree stayed immobile. He narrowed his eyes at the hole. It seemed...big, he supposed, but branches and leaves blocked him from his view. He almost stomped in frustration. But it was his only shot.   
  
     He crept forward. No movement. A little more. No movement. A full step now, becoming daring for some stupid reason. Maybe he was hanging around Harry too much?  _No, one can never hang out with Harry too much,_ Draco thought inanely as he stared up the tree. How far was he now? Ten feet from its nearest, visible root?  
  
     Draco took another shuffling step.  
  


     Movement.  
  
     Draco held in a shriek, rather impressively, if he was to grade it.  
  
      _Divvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_ , Draco went. He landed just a foot or so away from the hole, and at this angel he could see how wide it was. He lurched for it, hands using the roots of the tree to propel himself at the large space, when the tree suddenly froze, as though an  _Immobulus_  had been shot at it.   
  
     He looked up. Branches had been swatting his hair and back, and one particularly large one was only inches away from him. He carefully looked at the top of the tree. The leaves didn't even move, and Draco knew they should be because the wind pulled at his hair and clothes.  
  
     He hesitantly lifted his hand from its position on a knot of the tree, only for the branches to swing at him at full speed. He lurched back onto the branch he had been previously holding onto, and the branches froze again.  
  
     Draco breathed heavily, eyes wide in panic and astonishment. He slowly crept towards the whole, keeping one hand on the knot of the tree. His legs were dangling in the hole a minute later, his arm stretched as far as it can go. He closed his eyes, and pushed off from the branch, sliding down a small, steep ramp into a tunnel made out of dirt.  
  
     He lurched away from the opening, in case any branches tried to play Whack-A-Malfoy, and panted, only to cough into his hand as dirt fell from the ceiling. He stood, or, tried to, but the cave was small, so he was crouching the whole way.   
  
     The cave was long, and too low, he decided some time later, his back and neck starting to cramp. But a minute later he started to see some light at the end of the passage, and hurried his movements. When he came to a latter, he stopped, hardly daring to breathe.   
  


     He quietly pulled the map from his pockets, squinting to see in the dim light, for he didn't dare light his wand. The map still read Harry in a corner, with Nagini on the opposite side of the room, almost out of range of the map. A little ways off, his name appeared. He closed up the map, stuffing it back in his pockets. He grabbed the latter with both hands, and as quietly as possible climbed, wincing as both the latter and the trap door squeaked open. He hastily climbed out, eyes darting around when he finally got his whole body out. No movement.   
  
     He checked the map again, eyes darting from the page constantly, seeking any movement. Looking at the map, Nagini hadn't moved, but neither had Harry. Maybe they were both asleep?   
  
     It was a small, unlikely hope, but he was sure that everything had to sleep at some point. Nagini, whoever this wizard or witch was, or maybe it wasn't a witch or wizard at all, could very likely have fallen asleep after watching Harry for some hours.  
  
     Draco looked around the small, crumbling building. He decided the stairs were his best bet. He crept up them slowly, wincing at every little sound and hardly daring to breath. He was halfway up the stairs when he remembered a vital key.  
  
 _HE WAS A WIZARD.  
_

    Almost hitting himself for his own obliviousness and stupidity in the face of danger, he cast a silencing spell on himself and the stairs, before tested them, just in case. When no sound met his footstep, he jogged up the stairs.  
  
     He came to a hallway, with a door almost immediately to his right. He peaked through the wide open door way. Nothing. He walked slowly forward. There was another door on his left. Bathroom. Another on the left. Closet.   
  
     He came to a final one at the very back, this door slightly ajar, whereas all the other doors had been wide open. He cast another spell on the door so it stayed silent as well, and slowly opened it, peaking inside the room, holding his breath and forgetting momentarily about the silencing charm he had placed on himself.  
  
     He glanced to the corner nearest to him, swallowing a gasp. Inside the corner was no witch or wizard, but a huge snake, curled in on itself and as far as Draco could tell asleep, even as its forked tongue flicked out lazily. Its scales were poison green, and it had a plume on the back on its head.  
  
     Holding his breath still, he glanced around the room, heart stopping when he spotted the small form on the other side of the room, as far as possible from the snake.   
  
     Harry rested, a small ball in the corner, dried tear tracks running down his face, which Draco could only see the top of. Draco crept closer, tempted to put a spell on the snake, but magical snakes weren't affected like regular snakes. Spells bounced off their scales, much like dragons. He was halfway around the room when he stopped dead, eyes transfixed on Harry, finally spotting some...mutations to the sleeping form.

 


	13. Clinging Is Nice

     Draco picked Harry up gently, carrying the boy bridal style in his arms. The boy slept on, remaining limp. Draco crept across the room, eyes flickering between the cracking floor boards and the snoozing snake in the corner.   
  
     The snake, Nagini, rustled, shifting slightly and Draco was torn between holding very,  _very_  still, and running like hell. Nagini just curled tighter in on herself, however, and Draco slowly walked out of the room, hardly daring to breathe.  
  
    As he walked down the hallway and down the stairs, he held Harry close to his body, conscious of all the things the protruding limbs could hit, making noise and awaking the guardian.  
  
     Draco was tempted to mock the guardian in his mind.  
  
     He decided against it. Maybe once they were safely at Hogwarts.  
  


     He retreated to where the trap door lay, and set Harry down gently and quietly so he could opened it. It squeaked, to his horror, and his whole body froze, he didn't breathe as he strained his ears for any sounds that would announce the awakening of the snake.   
  
     Draco held very, very still. His eyes remained focused on the ceiling. He knew snakes had better hearing than humans, so how advanced would a magical snake be?   
  
     Then, he heard it. A soft hissing, above him, slowly moving towards the stairs. Draco's heart leaed into his throat as he threw caution to the wind, favoring speed of stealth. The trap door was open already, otherwise he may have flung it open. He dropped down the whole, his feet making a loud  _thud_. He levitated Harry as the hissing grew louder rapidly, and Harry fell into his arms. He looked up into the building, now crouched in the small tunnel. The hissing was very loud now, and Draco caught a flash of green before he flicked his wrist again, and the door closed with a loud  _snap!_ The snake beat itself against the door with many loud noises, and Draco cast many hasty locking and sticking charms before he took off.  
  
     Draco rushed down the tunnel, crouched and carrying Harry in his arms, breaths rapid and on the verge of hyperventilating. He didn't breathe easy until he was out of reach of the Whomping Willow.  
  
     He hugged Harry close to himself, the boy now shifted so that Draco was carrying him like one would carry a sleeping toddler, face stuffed into the side of Draco's neck. Draco held a hand against Harry's back, pressing the small boy close to himself as his breath started to regulate and his heart started to calm.  
  
     No one remained out doors, at least not that he could see, as he slowly started to walk towards the castle, and then to his rooms, his nerves frayed and jumping still. Upon reaching his rooms, Sir Murcy was quite startled, but Draco ignored him as he barked out the password. The door swung open, and Draco hardly heard Sir Murcy shout that he  _would_  be informed later as he set Harry down on the couch, and he ignored the mutations for now, instead checking the boys vitals and working to find out why he hadn't woken up.  
  
     Draco discovered that some light -luckily- sleeping charms had been used to keep Harry under, he assumed while Nagini was left alone with him. Draco breathed a bit easier, knowing that he could break the simple charms quite easily. He stood, rushing to pen a letter to Dumbledore and Snape, telling of the mutations and that Draco had gotten Harry back.  
  
     Returning to the couch, owls gone, he sat gently, brushing hair out of Harry's face as the boy breathed steadily. The tenseness had finally left Draco's form, his heart had almost returned to its normal pace and his breath as steady, much like Harry's.   
  
     He surveyed the boy, wondering what could have caused the changes. He supposed the Snake quite possibly bit him, and the venom could have messed with the potion. That brought another worrying thought into Draco's head, as though he hadn't enough already. What if the venom had seriously hindered the potion? Snape may now need to make changes to it, and that could require months more of experimenting and trying out formulas.   
  
     Draco sighed a weary sigh, glanced at the now closed off fire place, before lighting it up with a flck of his wand. It roared to life. He looked back down at Harry, blond hair falling gently into his face, one piece annoying attacking his eye.   
  
     He didn't want to wake Harry up yet. He looked so peaceful, so at ease. But Harry deserved to wake up, to know he was safe as soon as possible. Draco laid a light kiss on Harry's now exposed forehead, right on the scar, the patch of skin previously covered by Harry's mop of hair.  
  
     Only minutes later the portrait opened, allowing Professors Dumbledore and Snape both entree, with Professor Mcgonagall trailing behind as well. The teachers walked briskly up to him, and he looked at them with a solemn expression adorning his slightly pointy face.  
  
     They studied Harry with varying emotions, and Draco found he had little patience for the tense silence which seem to stretch on unnecessarily.   
  
     "Well?" He snapped, hardly noticing that he seemed to be hovering over Harry in a protective stance.   
  


     Dumbledore was the first to speak. "Please tell the events of what occurred in detail, Mr. Malfoy." He said calmly, eyes grim and no signature twinkle to be found. Draco almost found himself deflating. But he didn't. He glanced at Harry's sleeping form, before he looked back up at his professors with determined eyes.   
  
     He relayed the story to the best of his abilities, mentioning several times that he could be mistake about one fact or another because of the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the time. Once finished, the professors looked on in silence.   
  
     "I believe it fit to release the sleeping charms on Mr. Potter." Severus said abruptly, startling most the occupants. Draco nodded slowly, standing and brandishing his wand.   
  
     He murmured lightly under his breath. There were several, but they were easy. It took him a little over a minute to get them all off, and once he did, Harry's eyes fluttered open, revealing another change to the boys form.  
  
     His eyes, slitted, looked up at them in shock for a moment, before he launched himself at Draco, wrapping his little arms tightly around the boy and shoving his face in the crook of his neck. Draco, albeit slightly stunned, wrapped his arms around Harry's small frame, face burying into the black tresses.  
  
    He felt Harry's slightly protruding fangs, which seemed to be just elongated K-9's, pushing into his neck slightly, and Draco resisted the small urge to push them away or move his neck away, as he wasn't aware if they would be poisonous or not. Luckily, they didn't pierce his skin.  
  
     He felt the scales going up Harry's arms pressing into his back, and he knew similar, but smaller scales crept up Harry's neck in patches, and he could only assume scales to match those on his arms resided on his legs.   
  


     He almost sneezed, Harry's hair tickling his nose. Part of it now stood up, in a mohawk-like fashion, the rest remaining its curly, floppy self. Parts of it were also the same green to match the scales and Harry's eyes.   
  
     Draco ignored all this as he hugged Harry close to him, deciding he rather liked the clinging. It was nice. Meanwhile, he mentally screamed and shouted and mocked the snake that had been guarding Harry, slowly coming up with multiple different ways to kill the creature.


	14. Remembering

     It took Draco several minutes to remember he had company. But when he did, he couldn't bring himself to care. Not really. He looked up at his professors, who watched silently.   
  
     "Well?" Draco addressed them, startling Harry. Harry looked up from his neck and squinted at the teachers. He mumbled something about candies and cats and nasty liquids, before he tucked himself back into Draco's side.   
  
     "Mr. Potter, will you please face us so we can see the extent of the transformation?" Professor Dumbledore said quietly, making Harry peak up.   
  
     "Do I have to, Dray?" Came the mumbled response, muffled by the skin of the blonds neck. Draco felt himself redden slightly.  
  
     "Yes, Raven, so we can get you back to normal." He whispered, hoping to Salazar that none of his professors heard the nickname. Harry frowned, before straightening and turning in Draco's arms. He blinked up at the adults, who towered over him.  
  
     Their eyes seemed to narrow almost completely in sync as they looked at Harry's mutations. Harry shuffled uncomfortably under the gazes, leaning against Draco for comfort.  
  
     "Severus?" Dumbledore spoke, breaking the tense silence.   
  
     The black haired man sighed, mind working furiously. "I'll need to make some adjustments to the potion to account for the mutations, if Madam Pomfrey can't do anything. If I were to guess I'd deduce...Mr. Potter, how did you end up like that, exactly?" Severus asked, blinking as he realized he had nothing concrete to go off of, and he needed conformation of the chain of events that took place.

     Harry blinked. "He hurt me....then a snake bit me. It was big, and green...He called it a funny name." Harry murmured, shuddering. Draco blinked. _I swear if they used Cruico on him I wil-_  
  
     "Nagini." Draco piped up suddenly, paying too much attention to Harry to notice the paling of Severus' already light skin. "Is that what he called it, Harry?"  
  
      Harry nodded, slowly.   
  
     "I shall send Madam Pomfrey up tomorrow, boys. Severus, if Fawkes could lend some tears, would that be useful?" Albus asked, abruptly changing the subject. Severus blinked, then nodded. The adults slowly filtered out, lead by Dumbledore.   
  
     Once alone, Draco picked Harry up, noticing the boy wasn't as light as he had first been when he came into Draco's care. He felt rather proud of himself. He carried Harry to his room, the boy clinging to him as he did so. Draco sat down gently, Harry in his lap.   
  
     "Raven." Draco spoke softly, carefully pulling Harry's head away from his neck. Harry wore a small pout, but faced Draco, albeit seemingly slightly reluctantly. "Before they hurt you, did they say any weird words?" He asked gently, boiling at the mere thought. He wasn't exactly sure when he had become so protective over the boy, but he knew it had happened and he wasn't about to crush those feelings when the boy had hardly ever experienced them, or had them expressed to him.   
  
     Harry nodded, confusion crossing his face. "Did it sound like Cruico?" He asked gently, and Harry's slightly, bodily flinch told him enough. He frowned, holding Harry closed to himself. "It's alright Raven. You're safe now." He whispered, and Harry nodded into his neck. Draco let out a slow breath.   
  
     "Would you like to sleep?" Harry shook his head.  
  
     "I've been sleepin' for awhile now." He mumbled. Draco nodded in understanding.  
  
     "Want some hot chocolate?"   
  


     "Yes please!"   
  
     With a small, soft smile, Draco carried Harry to the kitchen, setting the boy on the counter as he made the sugary drink. He glanced back as Harry and frowned.   
  
     "You're dirty...why don't you go take a shower. I'll get some food and drinks going, alright? Take your time," Draco said, picking Harry off the counter. Harry frowned, before he nodded and shuffled off, leaving Draco in the nice, although small kitchen. House-Elves did most things.  
  
     He snapped his fingers, and moments later a House-Elf appeared. He requested an assortment of comfort, warm, chocolaty, sugary foods, and the creature nodded, ears flapping wildly, almost taking flight before it popped away abruptly. Draco shook his head softly, continuing on his own task. The creature would be back by the time Harry returned, if not shortly thereafter.   
  
     The night was spent cuddling and eating, sipping hot chocolate and relaxing in comfortable silence. Draco found himself being used as a pillow on the couch, and hardly caught the almost-empty cup that had been slowly sliding out of limp fingers. That could have been very, very bad. He placed it gently on the table, next to his own and on top of a tray that had been previously full of different foods.   
  
     He kissed the top of Harry's head, before he let his eyes fall closed, almost regretting falling asleep on the couch as he did so. He knew it be hell on his back in the morning, but he decided he'd deal with it.  
  


     The next week was spent easily. Madam Pomfrey couldn't find any way to reverse any of the effects, besides suggesting a dying potion to put Harry's hair back to normal, but Harry turned it down, saying he liked the color. The mohawk deflated, albeit slowly. Nothing else receded.   
  
     Draco and Harry had been eating lunch in the kitchen, discussing the limitations Harry had on his toy broom, when a knock sounded. Draco got up, opening the door and letting in, to his surprise, Severus. He walked in briskly, and Harry started toying with his jacket as he watched the robes swish around, pulling it this way and that and seemingly trying to get the same affect.  
  
     "Severus. Any luck on the potion?" Draco asked, assuming that's the only reason the Potions Master would visit him in the first place. The man nodded curtly.   
  
     "I believe, that if Mr. Potter drinks this tonight after dinner, he should wake up tomorrow back to order...for the most part. The Phoenix tears should take care of the mutations, but there is no way to know for certain until the potion is administrated." He said, tone low, and Draco felt as though his stomach was trying to do a weird mixture of jumping into his throat, dropping to his feet, flying away and doing what seemed to be an Irish jig. He wasn't sure.   
  


     "Well...I'll give it to him tonight, and we shall see. Thank you, professor." Draco nodded, holding out his hand for the potion. Severus gave him the small, thin cylindrical shaped bottle, before leaving. He looked at the mixture swishing around through the clear glass.

 

     It was wispy, swirling around and around. It almost looked like smoke, bubbling and trying to free itself from the glass confinements. It was a pretty turquoise color which Draco found he rather liked. He sighed, putting it in the pocket of his slacks, slowly walking over to Harry who sat patiently.   
  
     "Dray?" Harry questioned after Draco had re-taken his seat.   
  
     "Severus has a little potion for you. It should put you back to normal. You're supposed to take it tonight, after dinner. I'd say close to bed time." He said into his food, a spoon held to his mouth.  
  
     Harry frowned. "It's gonna take away the weird changes?" He asked, tilting his head. Draco nodded.   
  
     "It's supposed to." Draco continued with his meal, watching with small amusement as Harry smiled and continued eating himself.  
  
     The day crawled by, and Draco found himself slowly filling to the brim with anticipation and dread as the clock continued to click. He didn't want Harry back to normal. That Harry hated him. This Harry didn't. This one cuddled him and...cared for him. Looked up to him. Draco liked the look. He had never really liked kids, but little Harry...little Hadrian had changed him.  
  
     What would Harry think of him once he got himself in order?   
  
     The clock continued to tick, no matter how much Draco mentally demanded that it stop that nonsense.   
  


      Dinner came around quicker than Draco would have liked, and they ate in relative silence, Harry excited and Draco dreadful.   
  


     It came to be almost bedtime, and Draco sighed, before he pulled out the potion. Harry found himself leaning away from the vial, suddenly. "Is it going to taste bad?" He asked in a weary voice, and Draco snorted.  
  


     "Probably."  
  
     "Will it hurt?" Harry whispered, now holding the vial. Draco paused. How did he answer that?  
  
     "I don't know. I hope not." Draco said, and Harry nodded reluctantly. He pulled the cork off, and sniffed it delicately. He cringed at the smell, and Draco gave a snorted laugh. Harry glared at him, before he sighed, and drank the concoction quickly.  
  
      Harry gasped, the feeling similar to as though he had been doused with cold water. He shuddered violently, before he let out a choked, pained scream, soon falling limp into Draco's arms.  
  
     Not knowing what to do and feeling very panicked, Draco laid Harry down on the couch gently. He paced for a few minutes, before sighing and breathing out heavily through his nose. He decided that since Severus had said Harry would be back to normal by the next morning, then there was no reason for Draco to stay up worrying. Harry would more than likely sleep throughout the night.   
  
     That in mind, Draco asked a House-Elf to bring him both a relaxing and dreamless sleep potion. While he waited, he made sure Harry was comfortable on the couch. After staring at the blanket covered bundle for a moment, Draco realized Harry may turn back to his sixteen year old self.   
  
     He readjusted Harry, making sure the boy would be comfortable and his limbs wouldn't be squished, even if they did lengthen. He cast charms on the boys clothes, as well as his glasses, which he had taken off and set aside, so they would adjust with him. He also grabbed a larger blanket than the original one he had thrown over the boy. Satisfied, Draco sat, and got his homework out. The House-Elf returned before he finished setting it up, and he set the potions side by side, taking the relaxing potion and sitting down to do his homework.  
  
     When he finished, around an hour or so later, he walked into his bedroom, after leaving one more kiss on top of his Raven's head, before he walked into his room, changed his pajamas, and took the potion, quickly sliding into bed.   
  


     He fell unconscious soon.   
  


     Harry blinked his eyes open, rubbing them to rid them from eye boogers. He reached blindly for his glasses. The world came into focus once again, and he looked around the room.   
  


     It took him a full ten seconds to realize. And about another five minutes to run through all his memories of the place, of Draco and his younger self, which he had a surprisingly large amount of. He ran a hand through his hair.   
  
 _Draco_.  
  
     Harry sat up abruptly, coming to a stand. Or, he would have, it the blanket hadn't tangled around his feet. He fell, luckily avoiding the table, and untangled his feet on the floor. When he was standing, he rubbed his shoulder, which had taken the blunt of the fall.   
  
     He stopped at the bathroom quickly, to check on his features. Everything seemed to be back to normal. For the most part. His hair was the same length as it had been, except it had adjusted so that it looked the same as it had on his younger body. It almost looked too childish, too curly and messy to work. Harry suspected it may have if there hadn't been dark green, matching his eyes lacing through the dark tresses.   
  


     He tapped his K-9 with a slightly sharp finger nail. They were longer than he was used to, and sharper, but not as long or sharp as they had been. They no longer protruded from his mouth, and he probably wouldn't accidentally cut his lip on a tooth. His tongue, though, that was another matter.   
  
     He walked out of the room, and into where he knew Draco would be sleeping. The clock read early dawn, and Draco, while he was an early riser, didn't rise this early. He opened the door quietly, sneaking into the room. Everything was so much...shorter, and lower to the ground than he remembered. He looked at Draco's desk, noticing an empty potions bottle. He read the label, which read Dreamless Sleep. Draco would be out for a while.  
  
     So, throwing caution out the window, through the castle, past the ghosts and to the wind, he lifted up the comforter and slipped underneath the covers, next to Draco, not caring that he wasn't a child any more. His body may have changed, but his feelings about the blond, though now altered with past experiences and memories, hadn't changed too much.   
  
     Harry hesitated for a moment, a hand reaching for air, inches away from Draco. He wanted to wrap his arms around the blond, but...  
  


     He started to pull his hand away, but it seemed he didn't have a choice in the matter anymore. Sleepily, Draco's hand skimmed the sheets, looking for something, it seemed. Back and forth, Harry placed his own hand on Draco's searching one, and watched as Draco grabbed for it hazily, pulling Harry closer and tucking the smaller frame into himself. Harry smiled happily, wrapping his arms around the blond.  
  
     When Draco woke up, he was much warmer, pleasantly so, than he had been. He looked around himself, only to freeze. Harry, grown up Harry, lay next to him, snuggling him. Draco's heart went from easy, controlled pacing, to beating and pumping blood a mile a minute.   
  


     Draco started to untangle himself, before Harry's eyes fluttered open, a frown on his lips.   
  
     "Where you goin'?" He mumbled, dragging Draco back. He gave Draco a sloppy, sleepy kiss on the cheek, before tucking himself back into Draco's neck. "I's still mornin'. Sleepy time." Harry muttered, quickly drifting back off, and Draco felt a smile light up his face as his arms hesitantly wrapped back around the black and green haired boy.   
  
     He couldn't believe this was happening, but it was, and he wasn't about to change it. Draco drifted back off in a peaceful sleep.


End file.
